


Stargazing

by illogicalbroccoli



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Camping, Fluff, M/M, Stargazing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-06
Updated: 2019-03-06
Packaged: 2019-11-13 02:01:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18022706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/illogicalbroccoli/pseuds/illogicalbroccoli
Summary: Just a Ferengi and a hewman, camping under the stars





	Stargazing

**Author's Note:**

  * For [apolesen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/apolesen/gifts).



> @apolesen gave me the prompt "Here, take my sweater," and this is what came out.

“And we call that big red one Betelgeuse,” Jake continued.

Nog squinted up at the sky. 

“I think we can see that from Ferenginar,” he said. “We call it Tok’s Eye.”

Jake shifted position on his blanket. The sky was very clear over the hilltop, and you could see the Milky Way stretched out from horizon to horizon. A soft breeze was blowing, and he could hear the treetops rustling faintly in the distance. 

He looked over at Nog, who was just a silhouette against the starry sky.

“Who was Tok?” he asked.

“A Ferengi hero,” Nog said. “He is said to have been the inventor of double-entry bookkeeping.”

Jake laughed.

“Only the Ferengi would have an accountant as a hero,” he said.

“And who do hewmans have as heroes?”

“Great warriors, mostly,” Jake said.

“I’ll take accountants over killers any day,” Nog retorted.

Jake laughed again. 

They lay in silence, looking up at the stars some more.

“What did you say this place was called again?” Nog asked after a while.

“Colorado,” Jake replied. 

“It’s very beautiful,” Nog said.

There was a pause.

“But also very cold!” he continued.

“Cold?” Jake asked. “It’s summer! It must be what, 15 degrees. I know it’s not hot, but – ”

“It’s cold for a Ferengi,” Nog said. “The average temperature on Ferenginar is 28 degrees. And it stays the same temperature all year, because our planet actually managed to keep itself upright.”

Jake laughed again. 

“Are you actually cold, or just teasing me?” he asked.

“I am actually cold,” Nog said. 

“Do you want to go back into the tent?”

“No,” the Ferengi replied. “I like being here. And I like being here with you.”

Jake grinned in the dark. Coming from Nog, that was downright mushy. 

“Here, take my sweater,” he said. “Watch your eyes, I’m going to turn the light on.”

He illuminated the little portable lamp, and by its light rummaged in his backpack.

“Here you go,” he said, handing the woollen bundle over.

“Thank you,” Nog replied, pulling it over his head. 

On the small Ferengi, Jake’s sweater hung like a half-filled sack. About half of the sleeves flopped emptily, and wool pooled on the ground around him. Jake laughed.

“What’s so funny?” Nog asked.

“You,” Jake said. “You’re cute.”

“Keeeewt,” Nog said, drawing the word out in an exaggerated Ferengi accent.

“Yup,” Jake said. 

On an impulse, he leaned over and popped a kiss on Nog’s bulbous forehead. 

“Come here, you can lean against me,” Jake said. “That’ll help you warm up too.”

Nog shuffled over and nestled against Jake’s side. 

“Should I turn the light off again?” 

Nog nodded.

They sat there in silence for a while.

“What did you call that star?” Nog asked after a time. “Beetle-juice? It sounds tasty.”

“It’s an Arabic name,” Jake said. “I’m told it means ‘Armpit of the giant.’”

Nog laughed.

“Hewmans,” he said. 

The wind rose again, and Nog snuggled closer. Above, the stars shone on.


End file.
